A Meeting in the Steppe
by LitD
Summary: Whether by chance or fate a seemingly random meeting of strangers in the Steppe would set in motion events that would culminate in a saga of epic proportions involving many of a generations greatest heroes. In less poetic terms it is simply (another) dramatisation of the first chapter of Fire Emblem 7/Blazing Sword/Rekka no Ken.


**I am sure everyone(?) has a tendency to form stories when elements of a work are left unclear or I do at least. After playing Fire Emblem 7 various strange concepts bounced around my head gradually birthing the following story. If you brave it to the end remember, comments are always welcome as is constructive criticism.**

**Disclaimer: Yadda, Yadda. I don't own anything of the Fire Emblem Franchise.**

* * *

Strike from above. Block it with the flat of the blade, twist and push leaving your opponent open for a second. Strike? No time. Have to swerve in the saddle, lift your shield high, blocked. Felt like a brick slamming into your arm. Bear with it, grit your teeth and push back. An opening, strike low and fast. Hit? Who knows, have to swerve to the other side again, too slow. Pain so intense it numbs the body.

Death?

* * *

- 'There are a lot of birds flying over there.'

The horse gave no answer to its rider's statement bar a slight backward tilt of its ears and a swish of its tail. The rider had not expected it to reply, which would have been silly, however she had taken the habit of talking to herself recently and it was the horse that was the only audience she had.

With a glance upwards the rider frowned as she looked for the sun from beneath the leaves, looked back to where the birds were circling. She started to hum as she took into account the distance and terrain before nodding.

- 'We should probably make it there and back before dark, shall we investigate?'

The pony moved its ears before throwing back its head.

- 'Lets check it than.'

She said as she kicked back her heels, the horse dutifully obeying the instruction.

- 'It's probably going to be nothing you know. Just a dead buzzard or wolf being torn apart by other corpse eaters.'

She started talking again, the horse flicking its ears back but did not slow its walk. The girl continued,

- 'Of-course it could always be something else. There is no shortage of horse, ox, sheep and humans to litter the steppe. What if it's something more exotic? Could you imagine if it were to be a wyvern or something similar?'

The horse plodded on and as holding a conversation by oneself is not amongst the most interesting pastimes the girl soon fell silent, especially as they drew closer and she started to pay more attention to her surroundings. The vultures took flight as she approached, settling on nearby trees to glare at her as she rode up to the corpse and leaned over to get a closer look.

- 'A man… looks like a nomad though the birds did not leave much on him.'

Sitting back properly in the saddle she looked over the area for any clues.

- 'I would say he and several others rode here, quite quickly, from the plains. Chasing someone? Being chased? It would make sense as it is easier to hide in a forest…'

She looked around the area more carefully and soon found what she was looking for.

- 'Judging by the way the ground here is torn up there were three more riders, all moving quickly and in a short time of each other.'

She fell silent as she looked into the wood where the tracks led. The horse, unbothered finally, immediately lowered its head to graze only to have it forced up at a tug of the reins.

- 'What shall we do? Do we see what there is to find? Or do we just agree that there is no chance of this ending well for us?'

The horse did not reply, when it could it rested and when it felt the tug of the rein and a kick of the heels it did as instructed.

* * *

There are many things one might do upon waking up. By far the most common being, of course, sighing in irritation at having to start another day before begrudgingly getting up, performing ablutions and breaking ones fast. In the case of this individual the first thing done upon waking was to move his limbs and push the sheep skin serving as a blanket off and casting aside a sudden fear that took hold upon feeling the heavy weight, the fear of waking a cripple.

Too fast, he had moved too quickly too soon and his vision turned into a blur of colours and shapes and he would have collapsed were it not for someone catching him.

- 'You shouldn't be moving yet! Lay down.'

The shape pushed him down, despite an attempt to resist.

- 'You're lucky to be alive, I thought you had died several times, so stay still till you get some sort of strength back into your limbs.'

The blurred shapes starting resembling things but looking at any one thing too long hurt his eyes so he closed them. The voice continued speaking.

- 'No doubt you are thirsty. Lets see if you can keep this do….'

That was all he heard before slipping back to sleep.

* * *

- 'Nobody will pay a ransom for me.'

Those were the first words out of his mouth the following day.

- 'Oh?'

Came the reply as she poured kumis into a cup before offering it to her patient.

- 'In the stories the captive exaggerates the wealth his captors would receive in ransom in hopes of increasing his chance of surviving.'

A smirk appeared on her face as she spoke just as a scowl appeared on his as he took the cup, in both hands; his scowl only deepened at the smell but drank the contents in one long draught before giving the cup back. The girl refilled and offered it back.

- 'I did not save you to demand ransom traveller. I saved you to save your life, as unbelievable as that may seem.'

The look on his face was sceptical but he took the cup though this time he drank with less enthusiasm while the girl continued to talk.

- 'I am Lyn of the Lorca. Would you share your name? Or do you prefer "he who no one will ransom"?'

As far as Lyn was concerned it was impossible for the scowl to get any deeper and somehow the man managed the feat on hearing the verbal jab but he answered all the same.

- 'Rakowski.'

Lyn rolled the name off her tongue, making its owner wince at how she mispronounced it.

- 'Well, if your face had not already betrayed you to be a foreigner you're name most certainly would.'

She stopped and said the name again, slightly closer to its correct form before smiling.

- 'Well than, Rakowski, shall we see if you're able to stomach some food?'

* * *

- 'What did you do that you have been made responsible for me?'

Lyn looked up from her task at the question, eyebrow raised.

- 'Excuse me?'

- 'I'm guessing that being made responsible for you tribes captive, pardon, "guest" is some form of punishment.'

A frown appeared on her face as she went back to her work; it was a moment before she replied.

- 'Than you guess wrong. True this is a task but it is no punishment… unless you intend to make it so?'

The man snorted at that and a hint of a smirk appeared on his face as he replied.

- 'Heavens forbid I do that to such a charming girl as yourself.'

Her eyes narrowed at the tone the wounded had used but did not say anything. He seemed to have been expecting some sort of greater reaction as he paused. The smirk disappeared before he continued.

- 'Still. One would think there would be more than one person dealing with a wounded cap… guest. You're tribe must think very little of me.'

The girl seemed to confirm his suspicion as she turned her back on him and did not answer him for a long moment. When she did it was pure business.

- 'Stop talking and show me your ribs. I suspect those dressings need to be changed.

- 'So why are you helping me if not for ransom?'

Lyn stopped what she was doing at the question and turned to Rakowski.

- 'I believe I told you, to save your life.'

- 'You did. And you were correct in saying it is unbelievable. It would be so much simpler to walk by and much more profitable to strip me of my kit and leave the flesh for the wolves.'

He paused and looked to his gear piled at his feat.

- 'Yet someone goes through the trouble of patching up these wounds, drag my unconscious form to your camp and in, what I assume were breaks between making sure I did not die from blood loss or poisoning, find the time to repair my kit. Why?'

- 'Is it so difficult to accept that I merely wanted to save a life?'

There was no immediate reply and the two sat in silence that grew increasingly awkward till it was broken by a burst of violent coughing that left Rakowski leaning over, phlegm stained red landing on the ground, Lyn moving to his side.

- 'You should lie down. You're still weak.'

She stated and he agreed, doing as told and quickly falling into a sleep.

* * *

- 'Good morning Rakowski.'

- 'Good morning Lyn.'

She was already up when he woke, a testimony to his weakened state, or perhaps she was naturally an early riser? Both facts being true were also possible.

- 'How are you feeling?'

- 'Better.'

He replied. It was the truth he was feeling better. Though still weak he pulled aside the skins covering him to get up, remembering a moment too late of a certain fact. Quickly pulling the skins back he looked to Lyn hoping she hadn't noticed and cursed under his breath when he saw her, wide eyed, red faced and very quick to look away when she noticed him looking at her.

- 'Perhaps you might… err… leave me alone for a moment?'

- 'Of… of course. I'll be outside doing… waiting… something.'

Came the awkward conversation as Lyn quickly escaped the tent. Rakowski sighed; made sure Lyn was gone before reaching for his clothing.

* * *

The sunlight and fresh air hit Rakowski like a mallet, momentarily depriving him of his senses, as they were overwhelmed after days of being under a tent. When he got used to it the man took a deep breath and immediately started coughing before bending almost double and coughing up blood stained phlegm. He spat, sighed and stood straight before having a look around.

Rakowski had been expecting a camp, a handful of tents with those too old or too young to be attending the herds going about their tasks and maybe one or two armed men to keep an eye on him. Instead he saw a single tent and two steppe ponies grazing, all this in a small clearing amidst a wood to three sides and a lake on the fourth. Of the girl he saw no sign. Limping he made his way to the lake before easing himself to his knees, a hiss escaping his lips as he did so.

It took him a moment to recognize himself in the face in the lake, last he saw himself he wasn't so pale, nor were his features so gaunt and the hair on his head never resembled the grey tangled mess currently dominating his features. Deciding he needed to trim it the man made his way back to the tent for his barber kit.

He found Lyn there, stacking up a pile of bark and branches near the fire pit. She did not raise her head as he entered nor did she acknowledge him, instead picking up one of the sticks and poking at the embers. Rakowski moved up opposite her and slowly eased himself down.

- 'The Lorca do not exist anymore.'

She stated simply, answering his unvoiced question. Still prodding the embers she continued speaking with her face fixed downwards.

- 'Perhaps there are still some alive somewhere but I have not seen one for a long time.'

She did not say anything after that. Rakowski let the silence hang as he tried to find something suitable to say. Finding nothing he simply asked.

- 'Your kin?'

- 'Dead.'

Came the equally simple answer followed by another period of silence.

- 'About half a year ago we were attacked by the Taliver, only a handful survived. The others did not like the idea of me assuming my fathers position and decided to follow another leaving me in a poor situation. So I left them.'

- 'And now you're alone in the steppe.'

- 'And now I'm alone.'

Lyn fell silent again and seemed to lose interest in the conversation as she slowly started to stack the wood over the embers. Rakowski frowned, swept a hand over his poor excuse for hair and winced as his wound reminded him of its existence. The man sighed before saying,

- 'So what are your plans? You've been fortunate so far but being a hermit in the steppe is more likely than not going to get you killed.'

Her only reply was a faint, barely audible sigh before she knelt and blew on the embers. Slowly new smoke began to rise and small flames began to lick at the wood. Satisfied Lyn sat up.

- 'I have had thoughts that perhaps…'

She paused and looking very uncomfortable she stood, faced Rakowski and bowed her head.

- 'I apologize; I have not been completely honest with you. When I found you, saw you were not of Sacae I knew that should you live you would leave and thought that I could use you to leave as well…'

- 'So you find a dying man, nurse him to health and hoping that he feels indebted you ask of a favour.'

- 'No! I mean yes but…'

Lyn looked even less comfortable than before at the direction the conversation went as she tried to explain herself.

- 'It's not that I would have left you to die unless I had hoped for something in return. It's just that, I am ashamed to admit, I had thought…'

She stopped there as Rakowski found it impossible to suppress a laugh and it came out resembling a cross between a cough and a bark. With a grin he waved his hand in an apologetic gesture.

- 'I'm sorry but… you are an honest person, that is getting rare these days. I believe you and therefore I have no choice but to say, I will gladly offer what little assistance I can. I do owe you my life, regardless of what thoughts you had doing so.'

- 'I apologize and thank you.'

After that the two fell into an awkward silence before Lyn clapped her hands.

- 'Right. Lets see about dinner.'

So declared she moved to get things ready before pausing and, looking somewhat sheepish, turned to Rakowski again.

- 'Er, in truth I had another reason for saving you. I haven't talked to another person in months so, if it's not asking too much, you could perhaps talk with me rather than chew your food in silence as you have been doing so far?'

The man smirked as he answered.

- 'A tall order, but I shall try.'

He did try but the conversation quickly shifted to Lyn asking a question about something or other and Rakowski answering. Once he finished there would be a moments silence before Lyn would ask her next question and she had plenty of them. Though she asked mostly about the lands outside the Sacae she was soon concentrating on Lycia and her questions became more precise causing Rakowski to ask his own question.

- 'You seem to know a bit about Lycia, have you been there?'

The fact that he had asked a question seemed to throw Lyn off as she fell silent before sighing heavily.

- 'I have not but my parents have… my mother even claimed to have been born there. Occasionally they would tell me stories about it.'

A silence fell making Rakowski feel awkward at the thought that he had pushed Lyn's mind to her deceased kin and desperately looked for a way to draw attention away from it as it turned out unnecessarily.

- 'Is it true that they have masters that dedicate their lives to teaching swordsmanship in Lycia?'

Rakowski could swear that her eyes sparkled as she asked that, the sudden change in mood making him pause before he managed to voice an answer.

- 'Most of the major cities have such schools, yes.'

Lyn smiled at that and nodded to herself.

- 'It's decided. We're going to Lycia…'

Judging by the tone and the fact that she was not looking at him Rakowski decided she had not meant to say that out loud, a suspicion made all the stronger as she paused and glanced in his direction.

- 'That is… Where was Rakowski headed?'

- 'I was planning to go for Bern. Rumours say that the king is gathering an army which means plenty of prospects for someone of my career choice.'

He watched as Lyn looked increasingly crestfallen by his words before deciding to take pity on the girl.

- 'Of course I should hardly make such decisions based on rumours. Lycia would be a better bet as with all those city-states bickering over borders there is never a shortage of work for sells swords like me…'

The smile that appeared on Lyn's face almost made him feel guilty about not mentioning that he had been planning to head for Lycia from the start.

- 'So it is settled. We'll head for Lycia tomorrow.'

* * *

The following morning dawned bright and clear, promising a hot day, and the two were already up, readying Lyn's small amount of worldly goods for the road. To be honest it was Lyn doing that work as Rakowski was engrossed in getting his kit ready, it was a task easier said than done.

The man found himself reminded of the fact that he was wounded and weakened when he attempted to put his armour on. The weight of the padded jack made him wince whereas the mail made him gasp as pain flared through him almost making him black out, the mail slipping from his grasp. Were it not for Lyn appearing at his side and helping him keep his feet he may as well followed his armour to the ground.

- 'Perhaps we should wait a few days more?'

She offered as she looked to his side, her attempt to see whether his wound reopened foiled by the jack already there.

- 'I shan't get any better here.'

Rakowski replied, sounding harsher than he had intended, before bending his knees and gripping the mail. He made to put it on again but stopped as the pain flared through him. Red faced he turned to Lyn with an embarrassed look on his face.

- 'Perhaps you could help me get it on?'

She did, grunting under the metal shirts weight and it was only with some efforts that she managed to push it over his head. Catching her breath she left Rakowski to straighten the mail on his person as she bent her knees to pick up the mans brigandine and was pleasantly surprised that it was slightly easier to lift though her arms were still glad to deposit the vest on the mans shoulders. As he secured the vest in place she turned to the next part of his kit with a weary sigh.

- 'You don't have to. I'll manage with the rest.'

She did not argue and this time sighed with relief at not having to deal with the rest of his armour.

- 'Why do you go around in that?'

- 'Keeps me alive.'

He replied to her question as he moved his torso to judge whether the armour was settled properly, pausing as he put his fingers into the hole in his side.

- 'Without it this would have probably killed me.'

Lyn had no answer to that, even if she had the breath to spare, and merely nodded before devoting the next minute to catching her breath while Rakowski sat down and started fastening his greaves on. Deciding to leave the man to his task she stood up and moved to leave the tent before turning back. She picked up her belt, weighed down with a simple sabre. Fastening it on she looked to the man.

- 'I'm going to go check he snares. Could you get some water boiling?'

- 'Course.'

Rakowski replied without looking up from his greaves. Lyn nodded and left the tent.

The sun had only just peeked over the horizon so the world was motley collection of dazzling colours and black shadows and a chill was in the air. Lyn stopped and breathed in deeply before heading to the ponies. Short, hairy and ugly they were her most prized possession, essential for anyone wishing the survive travel in the steppe and she was pleased to see they were doing fine.

- 'I hope you've rested well as we've got a long road ahead of us.'

The ponies lifted their heads to the voice they knew, flicking their ears as they judged the tone she used. Not overly impressed they returned to their grazing. Lyn walked closer and placed a hand on the nearer ones flank.

- 'We're leaving the Sacae, with him. Do you think it's a good idea?'

The horse lifted its head again, swished its tail and shook its mane before returning to its grazing.

- 'I don't know. I would like to think that he can be trusted but… you know how we found him, three dead men and him with more of his blood on the ground than in him. He might be violent, an outlaw. Father would know… maybe mother would know more. She might have known him or of him, maybe his family. I mean she was from Lycia she must have known a lot of things and I never...'

She paused there and sighed heavily.

- 'Of course if father and mother were here I wouldn't have to worry about this matter at all.'

The horse lifted its head again and knocked into her.

- 'You're right. Worrying will get me nowhere and I did say I'd check the snares.'

* * *

Rakowski stood up and stomped the ground to ensure that his greaves were on properly. The boiled leather with its iron addition over his shin did not move in the slightest so the man looked for his sword belt, fastened it and gave the blade a quick pull. The arming sword jumped out easily enough. Next came the vambraces made in the same manner as the greaves, a cheap option for those on a budget.

Pulling on his gloves he left the helmet for now and picked up a small cauldron, hissing as he did, maybe he should wait a few days more? The man dismissed the notion almost as soon as it appeared. Another few days rest might help but it might not and it would be better to find a professional to check his wounds. Nodding he pushed aside the tents cover and paused breathing in deep. Movement at the edge of his vision made him turn his head sharply. Sighing with relief he went to the lake as at the other side of the clearing Lyn disappeared into the wood.

* * *

So far things were going well. Of the four she had collected so far three snares held a hare and at the fifth she found another, the noose tight around its neck. The earth around it was largely undisturbed so it seemed it died quickly. Lyn remembered her first attempt and at how disturbed she was when the hare caught in the snare was still dying, her father was not amused. Death and killing, he had said, are a part of life but that does not mean we should let dying be any more painful than it is.

With his voice in her mind she added the latest rodent to the brace at her belt and, tucking the string along with the others she moved on to the last snare she had set the previous day. It was when she was collecting the empty snare that she noticed that something was wrong. It took a moment for her to discover why she felt that way but when she did it chilled her; she could smell smoke.

Of course there are several reasons why she might smell smoke but almost all of them meant something bad for her. For a moment she stood, contemplating whether she should just head back to camp and pack up for the road out or whether to ascertain what was going on. With a sigh she went to investigate.

It wasn't long before she saw the smoke, and not much longer for her to see the source by which time she had long took to crouching and moved cautiously to cause as little noise as possible. The source was a campfire. Several ponies stood hobbled nearby and four shapes lay on the ground with another two standing watch. They were all armed.

Lyn had decided that was enough. Slowly she began to move back but got no more than five paces when she stopped again, there was movement in the camp. The shapes that had been lying now rolled to their feet. Words were exchanged as one went to check on the ponies, another took to the fire while the other two walked into the forest. Hiding as best she could she looked on as the two moved closer to causing a note of panic in her as they seemed to be heading towards her. Just as she wondered whether she ought to risk running for it the two men stopped and, taking a strategic distance from one another, unlaced their breeches and relieved themselves.

Instinctively Lyn attempted to escape the display before forcing herself to stop so as to remain hidden. Perhaps it was the movement or maybe the slight noise but the closer of the men looked up and around before stopping and looked directly at her. For a moment Lyn hoped that she was unseen and that the man would explain his worry away, she was to be disappointed. The man turned back and shouted an alarm to the others leaving Lyn no choice but to break cover and run causing more shouts followed by the sound of armed men giving chase.

Weaving in and through the growth she risked a look back, they were still after her and she saw four, two of whom seemed to be catching up. Forcing herself to run harder Lyn glanced back occasionally, judging the distance before suddenly sliding to a stop and pulling her sabre free of the scabbard in one motion.

The man that had been gaining on her attempted to stop or at least change directions but ended up all but impaling himself on Lyns blade with enough force that it pushed clean through him and all but knocked her off of her feet. The first attempt to pull the sabre free ended in failure and she had to put her foot on the dying mans chest to push him off. It was only now; with one of their number gasping his last breaths at her feet that Lyn could take a good look.

Short and wiry with his hair cropped short and beard grown ragged. He was dressed in animal skins, the hair turned inwards. Dark eyes looked up at her even as they clouded over and the mans face was freely adorned with blue tattoos. Lyn recognized these features and knew whom she was dealing with.

Taliver.

Running was no longer in her mind. She took a step forward and slashed in a wide arc. The second Taliver managed to block the blow though stumbled back and was hard pressed to stop the next and stumbled back another set of steps. The third strike would have connected had Lyn not been forced to dodge back as another Taliver joined the one she was fighting and attacked her in a low blow meant to cripple her leg. Two on one Lyn found she was hard pressed to find a chance to attack. When a third joined the two it was all she could do to stop their attacks from hitting her and already from the corner of her vision she could see a fourth moving in the realization hit her.

She was going to die.

The Taliver also realized this and pressed their attacks waiting for a chance. When it occurred Lyn realized it had as well, saw that she would be too slow to block and instinctively shut her eyes as she waited for the blow to fall and a thought entered her mind, would death hurt?

There was a crash and curses and Lyns eyes shot open. A grey shape had moved in and was now beating at a Taliver with a straight blade. Two others were on the ground, one clutching his head and moaning the other trying to push his wounded comrade off of himself. Lyn steeped forward and pushed the blade through the man, pinning him to the ground. Looking up she recognized the grey shape as Rakowski, or at least she hoped it was Rakowski in his armour as the entire frame was covered in steel and leather.

That could wait. Rakowski was smashing at the Taliver's defence that seemed ever closer to breaking; the shield was turning to firewood by the blow. His comrade rushed up with a good chance of planting his axe in the armoured mans back, Lyn moved in to intercept, catching the Talivers axe with her sabre. She twisted and pulled down before countering with an upward blow meant to split the brigand from groin to neck.

Too shallow.

A red line did appear and the man screamed as he stepped back, axe falling from his hand as both of them went to his chest in an attempt to stop the blood flowing from the wound. The man stumbled back until he hit a tree before turning and running away. Lyn made to follow but stopped as she heard Rakowski cry out. She turned to see the man stagger back, the Taliver he had been fighting following with an over hand blow. Lyn moved to help, as it turned out unnecessarily so.

Rakowski thrust his shield upwards, catching the Taliver in the jaw and sending him flying back, blood, spit and teeth flying from the nomads mouth as he landed with an earth shaking crash. Rakowski staggered back, planted his sword in the ground and clutched his knee. Lyn steadied him but could not say anything before the man pointed past her while shouting.

- 'Never mind me! Don't let that one get away!'

Before she registered the fact she was doing just that, she would later wonder why she followed the order so readily but that would be later, now she chased a man. Despite the Taliver's head start she slowly shortened the distance between them and when he turned around Lyn could see the panic set in as he attempted to run faster, to no avail.

He slipped and fell in a hard landing before managing to get to his feet and stagger further but by than Lyn had closed the distance. Curved steel fell down and hit flesh, freeing a spray of blood and sending the man to the ground, his attempt to stand cut short by a downward thrust.

He screamed as the steel went through his body making Lyn wince before twisting the blade and pulling it free. The Taliver continued to cry in pain till Lyn stabbed again, this time he merely gurgled as blood filled his throat before dying. The girl released the breath she had not been aware she had been holding and brushed her arm across her face. Suddenly the sabre seemed much heavier than before and she had to grip it with both hands and rest a foot on the corpse to pull it free, staggering back as she did she had to catch hold of a tree to stop herself from falling.

She stood like that, breathing hard in an attempt to catch her breath. She had almost succeeded when movement made her look up. Another Taliver had pushed aside low branches and now stood in silence, looking from his dead comrade to Lyn and back.

"Where did he come from.' Lyn thought, her mind immediately suggesting the very bad possibility that another group from the one she had seen had arrived, meaning there were now more of them moving in on her. The other, calmer part of her mind suggesting another explanation; she had seen six, five had pursued her while one stayed back to watch the horses, this was simply the sixth come to investigate his comrades death scream.

It didn't matter as the Taliver pulled his axe free and swung it in a wide arc at Lyns head and the girl moved fast to avoid the blow when Fortuna decided to play a trick on them. The ground underneath them, rotting leaves and moss proved treacherous and much like the corpse between them the combatants slipped, Lyn waving her arms in an attempt to regain her balance while the Taliver pitched forward, straight into Lyns sabre.

The Taliver crashed into the ground hard, attempted to push himself up before collapsing again into a steadily increasing pool of blood while Lyn looked in disbelief at the sheer absurdity of how the man had died. It was a moment before she remembered her ally and moving off to find him.

* * *

Rakowski looked up from the cauldron he had just put over the fire and listened. He could have sworn he heard something familiar, something that did not bode well for him. Standing with a hiss as his wounds sent a flare of pain threw him he moved for the tents entrance, pulled them aside and listened again. Almost immediately he heard it, a faint sound than those unaccustomed to it might have dismissed it but he did recognize it, the sound of steel hitting steel and distant shouts. Somewhere in the woods somebody was fighting.

He immediately went back in to the rolled skins that marked his sleeping spot and picked up his helmet, the bascinet fit snugly on his head and he needed only a slight shake to move the mail into position. Picking up his shield he had it secure before he left the tent. He paused than, trying to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from before he moved at a quick walk, his free hand moving to secure the mail flap to the helmet, leaving only two holes for his eyes uncovered by metal.

Of course there were plenty of reasons why a fight may be going on and not all of them involved trouble for him he still thought it wiser to investigate as primo: he had been in this site for a few days and apart from Lyn seen nobody. Secundo: Lyn was in the woods somewhere and might be involved and, no matter how he looked at the matter, he owed the girl a favour.

Stopping a few times to be certain of the direction of the noise it grew gradually louder until he saw the source. Not breaking his stride the man shifted from a fast walk to a jog, his sword jumping out of its scabbard into his hand in one practiced motion. The brigands attacking Lyn paused and looked in his direction and it was with some satisfaction that Rakowski noted the look of surprise shift to fear when they saw him.

Cut, upper left to lower right. The brigand was slow to react and the steel slashed through his face, opening it in a spray of blood. Not able to stop Rakowski's armoured form slammed into the man he had just wounded sending him flying into the man next to him and both fell to the ground, the third moving aside, already lifting his weapons. Slowed down by the impact but not stopped Rakowski brought his blade round and struck from the wrist, slamming the blade into the brigands shield and sending the man stumbling back.

Before the brigand could regain his senses Rakowski delivered another blow, sending a part of the shield flying away into the woods. The next blow was meant to go under the shield and spill the brigands' intestines to the ground. The brigand reacted in time however and the sword slammed into the shield, biting deep into the leather and wood before getting stuck. There was a moment's pause as both combatants realized what had happened before the both acted.

Rakowski attempted to pull his sword free while the nomad pushed forward while delivering a low blow with his axe. It was a weak strike and in most circumstances an armoured man would have simply shrugged off such a blow, but it struck the injured leg causing Rakowski to cry in pain and stagger back, the blade finally wrenched free from the nomads shield as its owner limped back. The brigand caught his balance and followed his opponent, lifting the axe high for an overhand blow while his shield shifted left to cover from any sword blows in doing so, however, he left himself open on the right side.

Gritting his teeth Rakowski caught his balance and lashed out with his shield, the edge connecting with the brigands face with a satisfying "crack", knocking the nomad on his back with blood, spit and teeth showering the area. Rakowski should have followed immediately with a downward thrust that would have skewered the brigand to the ground, but his leg shouted in protest when he tried to move and instead he planted the sword in the ground and gripped his wounded limb. Small hands gripped him, steadied him and the man looked up to see Lyn lean in, mouth moving to ask something he didn't hear for he looked beyond her to the brigand running away, if he succeeded he might bring others and they would hunt him and the girl down in the steppe as they attempted to flee leaving only one course of action to take. Hand outstretched he pointed at the runner and shouted.

- 'Never mind me! Don't let that one get away!'

Thankfully Lyn did as told without hesitation though he staggered with her sudden departure, it seems that he had had accepted her support despite himself. Hissing he stood straight and cursed both at the pain and at the realization that the brigand was rising to his feet, shaking his head as he spat blood, pausing the nomad looked up and snarled; presenting the ruin that had been his mouth. Gripping his axe he threw himself at the man responsible with a savage blow that Rakowski barely blocked, his shield arm protesting at the pain. Gritting his teeth he pushed back and stabbed low in response, or planned to do so except his knee protested against the movement and both actions fell short allowing the brigand to swerve to the side, swat aside the sword and strike the opening.

Fortune favoured both men, to a degree. The blow connected albeit weakly and would not have caused much worry to an armoured man, usually. However it hit Rakowski's wounded side, which sent him staggering back only for his knee to buckle and next he knew he was on the ground looking up through a pain induced haze to see the nomad stand over him, axe raised to deliver an overhead blow. Rakowski found he couldn't take his eyes off of the weapon waiting for his death to fall, not today it seemed.

Tearing his eyes off the axe Rakowski saw the brigand fall to his knees, his mouth opening and shutting like a fish thrown out of water as he looked down to the sabre stuck in his side. Lyn placed her leg on the brigand and kicked the body off her weapon and stood, chest rising and falling in rapid movements as she got her breath back. As if a spell had been broken Rakowski was free to move again and the pain reminded him of its existence and rolled over coughing violently as his lungs protested at the lack of air. One hand on his wounded side the other moved to unclasp the mail covering his face, coughing up blood and sputum when it fell away.

The mans coughing made Lyn look away from the dying Taliver and she moved to Rakowski's side. Letting the sabre down she paused uncertain on how to help before settling for using one hand to support him and the other to investigate the side he was clutching.

- 'Are you all right? Did your wound open?'

Even as she asked she probed at the area, dreading to find a bloody wound and hoping to find nothing. When she was first certain the man wouldn't die after her treating him those days back she took to mending his armour but having no way to mend his brigandine or mail she could only patch the jack and it was with some satisfaction that she noted that her mending was still whole.

- 'Rakowski, can you stand?'

Still coughing the man shifted his weight and, gripping her shoulder hard enough to make her wince, the two pulled him to his feet.

- 'Come on. Let's take you to camp and see how bad you are.'

- 'No.'

She stopped at his denial but could not get anything more for a moment as he started coughing again.

- 'My sword.'

He finally managed to say as he turned to look for it. Nodding Lyn set him against a tree and, finding the straight blade, she moved to pick it up picking her own sabre on the way, being very glad her back was to the man so he wouldn't see her blush at the thought of losing her weapon in such a manner. But as she prepared to move back to Rakowski she stopped, the Taliver was looking at her. Hands clutching his open side, black blood squeezing its way past his fingers he looked at his killer with a mixture of pain, hate and disbelief as his chest rose with great effort in ever the more shallow breaths. Lyn found she couldn't take her eyes of the man.

- 'Is this your first time?'

Her head snapped to look at the source of the question. Rakowski was still leaning on the tree but his breathing was normal and his grey eyes were fixed on her.

- 'Was this your first time killing men?'

She looked down before nodding. The man sighed as he nodded as well.

- 'You have a sick feeling in your gut? That will pass. Some say it never should, that if it didn't we wouldn't be trying to kill each other all the time but it will pass and you'll feel better in a moment.'

Lyn did not answer as she looked back to the Taliver. He had stopped breathing but his eyes were still fixed on her with the same accusing glare. She did feel sick but there was something else, a kind of elation perhaps a feeling of satisfaction? This was a Taliver. These dead men were Taliver, perhaps the same that had killed her parents? She did feel sick, yes but she also felt good. It was an odd feeling.

Shaking her head she knelt and wiped the blades clean on the dead mans jerkin and slid her sabre into its sheath before approaching Rakowski and handing his blade. The man accepted it and sheathed it before standing on shaky feet. When Lyn moved to help he waved his hand to indicate he did not need help, she allowed him to limp several steps before sighing, grabbing hold of his arm and forcing the man to lean on her.

- 'You're wounded Rakowski so stop being stubborn and just accept some help.'

- 'Mark.'

- 'What?'

Lyn turned to the man with a raised eyebrow, not sure what he had said. Rakowski looked away and sighed.

- 'Rakowski is my family name. My birth name is Mark.'

Lyn paused and looked at the man before a faint smile appeared on her face.

'I see. Than Mark, please stop being so stubborn and accept my offer to help you.'


End file.
